


tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake and dress them in warm clothes again.

by hasitsclaws



Series: we're inconsolable. [2]
Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Adult Content, Consent Issues, Drabble, Dubious Consent, F/M, M/M, Mentions of incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 21:09:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1564151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hasitsclaws/pseuds/hasitsclaws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He got mixed up pretty easily in the lights and thriving bodies without her as a tether. It felt like hours before he finally saw her again. Richie and Santanico had all but disappeared. And Kate, when Seth finally found her, she was just sitting on the curb outside of the club clutching at her stomach, blood smeared all over her mouth.</p><p>part two of the 'we're inconsolable' drabble series</p>
            </blockquote>





	tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake and dress them in warm clothes again.

He wakes up to the smell of pancakes and that’s when he knows that there’s something weird going on. There’s a handgun and a magazine clip stashed under his pillow; he loads and cocks and turns on his back to look at her bed only to see she’s missing.

“Breakfast?”

When he glances up, it’s to find her in their motel room’s small kitchenette, flipping pancakes. He vaguely remembers there being a convenience store down the road, wonders how she woke up, got ready, went out and came back without his noticing.

“What’s the special occasion?” he asks, mussing his hair sleepily and setting the gun back down, knows she isn’t a threat, at least not bodily.

“Does there need to be a special occasion for pancakes?” she laughs, and he just sort of squints at her.

Kate got weird after a hunt outside of Rio. She’d turned eighteen a month prior, and they’d been skirting of the lines of what that could mean since then.

He remembers frosting, the feel of her tongue licking at his fingertips. It’s the thing he jacks off to in the shower most, though he won’t admit that even if you try to make him by breaking all his fingers at the joints.

The hunt in Rio was standard. Freddie had said that Santanico and her puppets had been spotted there, cursing in Spanish against the receiver as his daughter wailed against his shoulder and his wife was griping about dirty diapers in the background.

Seth and Kate went to check it out, found themselves in the middle of a rave with swarming bodies, everyone higher than a kite. Seth pressed Kate close, wouldn’t let her go, _couldn’t_ let her go because he was afraid someone would just grab her, or she’d somehow vanish into thin air, along with the last of any semblance of what feels like home to him.

They made it halfway through the club before they saw them-- Santanico Pandemonium in all her ethereal glory, and Richie, standing there next to her draining some poor girl dry. No one around hardly seemed to notice.

Kate went in head-on as always, dragging Seth along with no game plan, and one second she was in his grasp and the next--

He got mixed up pretty easily in the lights and thriving bodies without her as a tether. It felt like hours before he saw her again. Richie and Santanico had all but disappeared. And Kate, when Seth finally found her, she was just sitting on the curb outside of the club clutching at her stomach, blood smeared all over her mouth.

“Do you think I’ll ever make it to twenty?” she asks as they’re driving on the border of Brazil, no destination in mind, but no need to stop either.

“If I have any say in it,” he says, because he feels like he owes it to her that he help her make it out of this. Once all is said and done, he doesn’t care if his card is punched, only that hers is far away from its expiration date.

Seth tried to ask her what happened over and over again, but she just said that she thought she was following Richie into the back and then she’d stumbled into some dark room, tripped, cut her lip. It just took her a while to find him again, was all. Nothing happened.

He knows she’s lying, because even with all the hardened edges she’s earned since that night at the Titty Twister, Kate’s still a preacher’s daughter and preachers’ daughters can’t lie for shit.

They find a nest on the south end of Peru, meet up with another pair of hunters who look like they’ve taken a few rounds through a blender. They’re brothers, the eldest named Luego while the younger one goes by Rollo.

“How’d a little thing like you get into all of this?” Rollo asks Kate, eyes mapping out the lines of her. She’s starting to grow out more, getting more curves and harder edges from all the fighting.

Seth doesn’t like the way Rollo appreciates the view so much.

“I hacked up some vampire strippers with a chainsaw. How did _you_ get into all of this?” Kate counters back at the burly man, and Seth just smirks at Rollo’s shocked expression.

A little over a week after Rio, Kate went from crying in her sleep to screaming.

He woke up to find her tangled in her own sheets, covered in sweat. The only thing he could think to do was wake her, but that just got him a black eye and sore ribs. Eventually she calmed down though, and he just sort of held her for a while.

It was subtle, the way she suddenly shifted her body up against his, stretching out like a cat in the sun. “I hurt, Seth,” she whined.

“Where?” he asked, wondering if she’d banged something up with all her struggling.

Without warning, she grabbed his hand and brought it down between her legs. “ _Here_ ,” she said, and kissed him.

The nest is a lot bigger than they thought, and of fucking course they’re Santanico supporters, his favorite kind of vamp.

He’s got three going at his jugular when suddenly the entire place just goes up in flames. Something inside of him snaps at that, instinct and childhood fear as he searches frantically for Kate, finds her fighting two off in the corner and he just _runs_.

When he grabs her and hauls her out of the burning building, she’s coughing and choking and still loading barrels of silver into oncoming vamps. Only four make it out of the flames after them, and Luego and Rollo, the fuckers, are standing outside waiting with stakes.

Afterwards, he and Kate just lay on the ground coughing their lungs up before she’s abruptly on her feet and she’s got his handgun from where he usually keeps it tucked away in the waistband of his slacks and she’s raising it up and--

“You could’ve _killed_ us!” she screams.

“Two for twenty is worth it,” Luego says, and Kate shoots him in the head.

Seth blinks where he’s laying on the ground as he watches Luego’s body fall to the dirt, followed by a shot and then Rollo’s weight slumping on top of his brother's.

“Kate,” he said around her mouth, trying to shrug her off. “Kate, you don’t want this.”

“I do, I do,” she insisted. “Please, Seth. I’m dying for you to touch me. I want you. Please, p _l_ e _a_ se, pl _eas_ e.”

_I’m coming with._

And he can’t deny her anything, anything but what she was asking right then.

“Kate,” he says now, spits out a mouth full of ash.

She’s shaking, still holding the gun at shooting range and he has to rise on wobbly legs to fold her arms down for her, turn her into his chest. She’s sobbing within the next second.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry I’m sorry _I’m-sorry-I’m-sorry_.”

“It’s okay,” he answers, stroking her hair, kissing her scalp. “They deserved it.”

“Why not?” she asked, lip suddenly caught between her teeth and eyes watering at his rejection.

He sighed, looked away from her and shook his head as he got up off the bed. “We just can’t,” he said. “I can’t do that to you. It’s not right.”

“Richie did it to me,” she said.

The comment unexpectedly made his blood boil, and not because of why he thought it would. He was always jealous when other people touched Richie or Richie touched other people, but not when other people touched _Kate_  or she touched them. Least of all her touching his _brother_.

But just thinking about it made him want to break something, namely his brother’s undead face.

They sleep it off in the car and she lays curled into his chest, mumbling in her sleep. He just kind of holds her, remembers the rest of that night and how she eventually fell asleep not looking at him, didn’t even remember anything about it in the morning.

Freddie calls the next Sunday, says that Luego and Rollo had some hunting buddies that are pissed that they’re dead. Seth takes all the blame, tells Freddie to tell them to come after him and not Kate.

When she walks out of the gas station with a big smile carrying two ice-cream cones, he knows he doesn’t regret the decision one bit.

She never asked what came over him when the flames started, and he figures he wouldn’t have been willing to tell anyways.

It takes another two weeks, but finally one night they’re at a bar and she’s sipping his beer, making this face before she says, “I lied. About that night in Rio. I found Richie.”

And he’d be a liar too if he didn’t say the mention of his brother’s name makes his heart take off, that it aches so bad he could puke. “What happened?”

“I got caught up in the spell of it,” she says, and they both know exactly what she means-- that kind of magnetism of acting on one’s true desires when in Santanico’s vicinity. “He told me to come with him. To get you to come with him too. He told me to stay, see the beauty of Santanico, like he did that night in the club. And then we…”

“And then you what?” Seth asks, words full of heat and jealousy and longing.

She hides her face in her hands.

“And then you _what_ , Kate?” Seth asks again, feels like he’s going to have a heart attack with how fast the fucking organ is beating.

“He kissed me,” she says, and Seth flinches. It turns to a full-out gut punch when she says, “Between my legs. And he made me drink his blood after I, I-- finished...”

 

She never asked Seth to touch her again after that night, and he was both relieved and desperate.

They stay the night in a dingy motel and he lays there staring up at the ceiling, counting her breaths until suddenly she rolls up and he can feel her staring at him.

_Eyes find eyes._

“What?” he growls, mood still sour.

“I’m sorry, Seth. I didn’t-- I mean I guess I must have wanted to. But I didn’t really. It just-- I’m sorry,” she says.

And he sighs, because he’s known since the words left her mouth that it wasn’t her fault, that none of this has ever been her fault. “It’s okay, Kate.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he answers, leans over and takes her hand. “Now go back to sleep, princess. We’ve got ramblin’ to do. Vamps to kill, hunters to avoid.”

“Okay,” she whispers. He closes his eyes. “And Seth?” He opens them. “Richie said he misses you.”

  
They bury the bodies in the lake, and Kate comments about how she feels bad that they don’t have anything warmer to wear.


End file.
